


Staying Relevant To Harry's Journey; Year One

by DilynAliceBlake



Series: Staying Relevant to the Journey [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:45:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DilynAliceBlake/pseuds/DilynAliceBlake
Summary: Harry Potter and Keeping Your Head Down and Staying the Fuck Out of It.At the humbling and exciting age of eleven, there are a lot of things to do.  Vanquishing dark lords isn't high on the list when there are brooms to fly and chocolate frog cards to collect.  Harry is sure it will sort itself out.





	1. Meeting Hagrid

     Harry says nothing to Hagrid except "I'm Harry" and "What," but the half-giant seems to take it from there. Harry doesn't correct him when he says that the Potters were killed, instead trying to guess about how much he's supposed to know and piece together (or fake knowledge of it) as much as is possible.

     "Best not to mention that bit of magic," the man says, and later, "forget about that nearly empty bank vault." Harry nods because he understands very well the concept of not seeing things that he saw.  Harry's aunt was nice, normal, and upstanding, after all.  It was in Harry's best interest not to have seen her pouring alcohol into her cups, and so he hadn't.

     There was nothing going on in his local park, Harry was certain, because he quite liked spending time there. That meant that when people asked if he had seen anything suspicious, or noticed any teenagers, the answer was always a resolute _NO_. Harry just goes there to play, and that's the end of that.

     Harry had once stared one of the member's of Grunning's Drill Company dead in the face whilst the man pocketed some of the good silver. Later when approached with a nervous "about earlier, what you saw in the kitchen..." Harry knew very well to say "I didn't see anything in the kitchen, sir." He walked out of that conversation with a five pound note, a pat on the head, and a pleased "There's a good lad" from the guest.

     It was the only time Harry had ever been referred to as good outside of schoolwork without the word "no" in front of it quite adamantly.

     When the blond in the shop asks about a house Harry shrugs and stays quiet, because he knows that opinions are best formed only after one has all of the information (and even after that better kept to oneself.)

     Harry doesn't have much of an opinion on Hagrid either, except that he's tall and never seems to keep proper track of his pockets.


	2. Hedwig, Except She Isn't

     The snowy owl he names Speckles, because she has speckles, and he is eleven. They spend several minutes staring each other down in solemn assessment before Harry asks her if she can understand English. She is a magic owl, after all, and has to figure out postal delivery somehow.

     Speckles then spends a very long moment looking haughtily offended, which Harry takes as a yes and introduces himself politely.

     "My name is Harry Potter," he says, "and I don't have anyone to send mail to just yet."

     She ruffles and preens, and the young wizard looks at her sternly. "If you make noise after curfew they will yell and withhold dinner."  This warning is both true and fair. They don't really chat much after that.


	3. Platform Nine and Three Quarters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brick walls are not to be trusted.

     Harry knew better than to ask an adult for help at the train station. He could also do basic math. A quarter is half of a half, and three quarters between platforms nine and ten was.... A brick wall. This did not confound him. He had, after all, less than a month ago seen Hagrid open an entire _town_ by tapping a wall. (Harry would probably never look at a brick wall without suspicion again.)

     Hoping the umbrella wasn't necessary, he decided to begin with the bricks at eye level and work methodically down, then up a ways if that failed. After that, he could worry about pastel umbrellas or magic words.

     Harry knew he was short for his age, but it didn't make sense to put the entry out of the reach of new students. His hand goes through the supposedly solid wall quite smoothly, and the rest of him follows with ease. On the other side of the only-pretending-to-be-a-wall was a train platform of bustling busy bodies. Harry boards the cherry red engine and wonders if there will be snacks.


	4. Ron Weasley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is very good at withholding judgement, but he still comes around to liking Ron in the end.

     All the You-Know-Who nonsense Harry had made mental note of, but set aside for a time when he did in fact know whom. For the sake of his brain, he sincerely hopes all the instances refer to the same assumed-to-be-known person, because if he has to take a wild guess every time a newspaper thinks gossip has already traveled the rounds he'll go barmy.

     Harry does have more immediate concerns, though. Namely, the gangling redhead who has just asked to sit with him. Harry has no reason to either argue or agree with a stranger taking up space nearby, and so very conspicuously pretends not to have heard.

     The boy asks again, crinkling up his dirt smudged nose and insisting that everywhere else is full. Harry turns his head to stare but says nothing.

     "Is this seat taken?" the stranger persists. Harry turns back towards the window to watch his breaths fog the glass. This does not put an end to the chatter.  Wizarding children, Harry has found, are very chatty.  His source for this currently amounts to two robed eleven year olds and a stroll through Diagon Alley, but the theory sits well so far nonetheless.

     "Hey," exhibit B squeaks, "Can you hear me? Hello!" The continued lack of response leads to the boy sitting at the bench across from Harry's own seat. This is undoubtedly for the best. If the freckled fiend had continued his chatter Harry might have actually gotten annoyed and had to move.  Speckles was already settled, so that was _not_ an ideal outcome.

     There is, in fact, a snack trolley, and Harry gets a plethora of pleasant pieces of which to partake. He is reading his first ever chocolate frog card [Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore] when his companion asks if he can have some. Said boy then realizes he has been indisputably rude, and turns an interesting vermilion sort of shade in embarrassment. After that, he has the belated grace to introduce himself in a hasty jumble, and Harry decides that as far as people go this Ronald Weasley isn't too bad.

     He juts his chin out in consideration, but eventually decides that since Dudley would never share, then he really ought.

     "Give me the card," Harry says with utmost seriousness, and gives him a chocolate frog of his own. If Harry had said that to one of Dudley's gang (not that he'd ever had anything worth sharing) then they would have destroyed whatever he asked for back. Likely in front of him while jeering.

     Ronald Weasley gives Harry the card, only minorly chocolate smudged, with a "Thanks, mate" tossed offhandedly like friends were a dime a dozen. This, Harry decides, will be a good one to start with.

     "You have dirt on your nose," he tells him, trying to sound helpful instead of rude as he passes along a Twizzling Twist. "I'm Harry Potter."

     Ron's jaw drops in astonishment and Harry smirks and taps his nose in reminder. Frantically scrubbing his nose pink, and rather endearingly afluster, Ron stutters something to Harry about a scar.

     "Of course," Harry responds with ease as he lifts his bangs, wondering why on earth that would be important. Ron still seems awed and gobsmacked though, so his guess about what he had meant must have been right.

      "Can I have a corned beef sandwich?" Harry asks, and learns that Ron doesn't like them.  He learns that Ron has six brothers and a little sister.  He starts his planning for Christmas shopping early, because he now has at least ten- No, with Hagrid that's  _eleven_ people to buy presents for.  If the rest of the Weasley family is anything like Ron, then Harry supposed that maybe friends _are_ a dime a dozen.  At the very least this is going to be the most exciting Christmas season he's ever experienced.  

     The goblin sized figure on his second ever frog card is labeled Filius Flitwick, and he is a champion of dueling.  Harry suspects dueling is done with weapons, and not cards, here in the wizarding world.


	5. Hermione Granger

     A cloud of frizz pops into the two new friends compartment with a brisk "Have you seen a toad?"

     "If you've lost a toad on a train full of cats and owls," Harry says, "Then you must know that by now it's probably ended up as some other pet's dinner."

     The rest of the girl follows her head of frizz in with a huff.

     "That's not a very nice thing to say, you know," she informs him. Harry did in fact already know. From his seat, Ron puts a nervous hand on Scabbers the rat and eyes the open door with suspicion.  "You should put your uniforms on," the bossy newcomer continues. "We're nearly there, you know."

     That, Harry did not know.

     "I'm Hermione Granger," the introduction goes, and when she exclaims over Harry's presence he makes a mental note of the book he's apparently featured in. Being so well known that people bother him about it seems like it will immediately effect his life.

     "Are you going to leave, or stay here and watch us get dressed?" Harry sasses, and Ron grins down at his shoes.

     Her leaving is just as abrupt as her entry was, and once she's gone they wriggle their way into school uniforms.

     "Don't worry," Harry assures. "I''ll tell Speckles that she isn't allowed to eat your pet.


	6. Anticipation and Talk of Trolls

     Minerva McGonagall appreciates a thirst for knowledge as much as any teacher or professor might, but when one of the eleven year olds raises her hand to ask where the library is before they've even ascended the steps to the castle, she looks skywards for patience. If that one isn't bound for Ravenclaw you can colour her surprised. She instructs the students, overeager girl included, to please hold their questions until after the feast. There are prefects for a reason, after all.

     She leads the children to where they'll wait while the hat is fetched. A little healthy anticipation, she believes, never hurt anybody.

     Harry Potter is not anticipating much of anything, except perhaps his supper. The blond from the robes shop approaches to ask if he's put any more thought into where he'd like to be sorted, and Ron adds that his brothers said they would have to fight a troll. Malfoy looks a bit peaky at that.

    "If we have to fight a troll," Harry says, "the first of us to face it should try and blind it, to give the others a better chance." Malfoy objects to this.

     "Why should I do anything to make Weasley's life easier?" he asks. "There's a blood feud to uphold!"

     Ron heartily and ironically agrees with Malfoy about this, and Harry is rather glad to skip out on the whole schoolyard rival business.  He decides to look up blood feuds as well as 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts'.

     "I'm not part of the feud," he says, "so I'm not taking sides."

     Which is how he accidentally invites himself to be Draco's friend, and then has to introduce himself; first to Draco, then to everyone else who's heard of him from some book or another. Luckily he's saved from looking like a complete idiot by the abrupt entrance of several ghosts, at least one of whom Harry suspects by the dramatic wailing and subsequent giggles may have died tipsy.

     Before the children have even properly wiped the surprise from their faces, McGonagall returns and instructs them into a line alphabetically by last name. Trolls or no, the time of reckoning has come.


	7. The Sorting Feast

     There are, perhaps disappointingly, no troll battles to be had. Instead there is a hat; old, ragged, and in need of mending. It sings, and Harry finally gets the rundown of the houses he's been desperately trying not to ask for. A third of the way through the line Harry suddenly sorts the problem of Christmas presents for Ron and Draco respectively, in a manner sure to irritate and please them both. He shouts out "Brilliant!" without quite remembering that they are supposed to be upholding orderly conduct, and the entire student body turns to stare.

     "...The ceiling...is quite brilliant..." he mutters, and the rest of the world goes back to its own business. Draco has barely been _near_ the hat when it announces Slytherin, and what seems like an instant later Harry himself is sitting on the stool.

     "Ravenclaw!" shouts the hat with certainty, because there's nowhere that fits better for someone who hunts, hoards, and hides knowledge in equal measure. Ron is sorted into Gryffindor and ends up sitting next to the admittedly obnoxious girl they met on the train. Harry very nearly pities him.

     Then he pities himself, because the headmaster has announcements before they are allowed to eat.

     "The Forbidden Forest is, as it's name implies, forbidden," the tottering old man declares with dignity, and Harry makes a note to find out why. Perhaps he'll go there, if it proves of interest. "A list of banned items can be found on the door to Mr. Filch's office," Dumbledore continues cheerfully, and Harry repeats the name several times to himself in his head. He very much intends to get himself on the good side of the castle caretaker in charge of banning items. What he'll use such an alliance for, he doesn't rightly know, but nothing bad ever comes of having the fondness of an authority figure.

     The last announcement is edging on worrisome.

     "For those who do not wish to face certain and gruesome death," the man adds as if that's a normal thing to worry about _in boarding school_ , "avoid the third floor corridor."

     There has got to be a board of governors Harry can contact about this. Threats of death should not be present in the very bloody hallways. He's eleven! Some idiot is going to go _looking_ for trouble, and with Harry's luck it will be Ron, and then he'll have to be involved on principal!

     It's less than an hour into the school year, dinner has just been served by poofing itself onto golden platters, and Harry wishes that he got to eat often enough to have a go to comfort food, because life is looking stressful.


	8. Welcome to Ravenclaw

     Entrance to the Ravenclaw tower is a riddle. Apparently anyone with a knack for crosswords can just waltz into Harry's studying and living space. A curl of irritation twists itself through his gut. This is less than ideal. To make matters worse, the script announcing said riddle is an annoyingly twisting font, sure to cause no small number of headaches when he has to decipher it after a day of study and classes.

    **When I'm tall I'm quite young; When I'm short I'm quite old; I'm sure to help you; If it's dark or it's cold.**

     ' _Great_ ,' sarcasm chimes in, _'it's in verse_.' 

     "People are tall when they're young and shorter when they're old," someone suggests, ignoring apparently the existence of infancy through adolescence.

     "Pencils get shorter as you use them," someone else tries, to no avail. Pencils are not very helpful when one can't see to use them.

     "Something else..." Harry postulates. "Something that gets shorter as you use it, that can light or warm you somehow..."

     He's sure he's almost got the answer when a girl by the name of Patil shouts "Candles!" and the entrance to the common room swings open. The prefect commends them and awards them five points for excellent teamwork. She compliments their group thinking and synergy. Harry just wishes she would tell them how to find their dorms. Classes start tomorrow, because giving new students time to familiarize themselves with the castle and it's layout was apparently not deemed important. For his part, Harry will be asking his head of house for a map. Or perhaps a dueling demonstration.


	9. The Third Floor Corridor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry does not get a map, which is a shame because if he'd had one he could have avoided this nonsense.

     Professor Flitwick tells Harry that any maps of the castle are sure to be so out of date as to be more confusing than helpful, considering how often it rearranges itself. He assures Harry that over time he will get a feel for the castle, but considering that it's day one of his classes and he's already lost, this isn't very comforting.

     Ron, from the train, is also lost, and the two somehow end up on the third floor of all places. When the stairs swing away and they are essentially trapped, the choice is clear for one H. Potter, aged eleven.

     "Well, I'm leaving," he tells Ron casually, as if it were that simple. The redhead double takes, gangling limbs jolting as he whips around to stare with incredulity.

     "...There's no stairs."

     "Look Ron," Harry sighs, "you seem a nice enough chap. I don't know about you, but I would like to live to see my teenage years. You heard the headmaster; certain death. If we stay here, death is certain. If we leave, injury is _probable_. I, for one, choose probable injury over certain death.

     That is how Harry ends up hanging by his finger tips four stories up when Professor Snape arrives, tipped off by a passing Malfoy to the trouble. Several of his hairs turn gray at the discovery, he is certain.

     "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING YOU IDIOT CHILD!" the potions master shouts, hastily levitating Harry down.  Once that rather exhausting bit of magic is done (it was a very long way to lower a child without dropping him or crashing him into the other staircases about) Snape turns his attention to the second boy who's orange hair can be seen even from such a distance.

     "I assume by your fretting, Mr. Weasley, that _you_ will not attempt to take the stupid way down," the professor more orders than asks, to which Ron frantically shakes his head. This is how a mildly miffed Harry ends up in Snape's office while Ron is still stuck until they can get the staircase to move. Of course, without Harry there, boredom and curiosity win out, and they later find him fainted death pale outside a mysterious door, just out of range of the paw reaching with scrambling claws against cold stone.


	10. A Stern Talking To

     A very stern talking to is had in Severus Snape's office that day. It essentially boils down to "don't be an idiot," and "you are not invincible."

     "How do I know that for sure," Harry huffs contrarily, "If nothing has happened yet which might have killed me?" It's just an idle thought, like so many others. A scientific (if childish) inquiry that marks one of the reasons Harry Potter might have been sorted into Ravenclaw. Evidently, however, this was very much the _wrong_ thing to say out loud.

     "Surviving a killing curse does not equate to invincibility!" Snape snaps with a snarl.

     "Someone has survived a curse designed solely to kill?" asks an intrigued Harry, interest sparked. Severus Snape takes a necessary moment to assess the boy before him.

     "What do you know," he drawls slowly, "of the night your parents died?"

     An easy enough question.

     "There was a car crash," begins Harry, "'cause my dad was a useless good-for-nothing drunk."

     This is stated with detached confidence and little emotion. It is a fact he is supposed to know. It has been given to him often, and he duly recites it by rote upon questioning.

     Snape snorts in amusement. "Only some of that is true," he tells the boy, since apparently Hagrid had not seen fit to clue him in to, well, anything.

     "Your father was a bully who thought he was above such things as rules or consequences. He went to school here, in the same year group as I did. He and his sycophantic gang of serial pranksters made life miserable for more than one student. However, he did manage to graduate, and he was not, to my knowledge, an alcoholic. He and your mother were murdered by the dark lord on Halloween when you were one.  You, miraculously, managed to not only survive, but also to somehow destroy the Dark Lord, thus your fame and subsequent moniker as 'the boy who lived."


	11. A Relevant Revelation

     "That," decides Harry after hearing the tale, "sounds dumb. Babies don't do anything but drool. They really don't defeat dark lords. I've seen one year olds. They have trouble _walking_."

     Snape has to bite back a smile at that befuddled declaration.

     "And what of the rest of what I've told you?" he probes. The boy before him frowns.

     "I think," he deliberates, "that I liked it better when I could pretend that he might have been alright sober."

     "If it's any consolation, aside from her taste in men your mother was quite wonderful." A long pause, and then, "You have her eyes."

     Harry lifts a hand to his face, looking awed at such a revelation. Then he smiles brightly, and the optimism of youth gives Snape a headache.

     "Thank you sir! I'll see you in detention!" The boy darts out the room, likely to rush to the nearest mirror, and Snape is tempted to take points for his leaving without being formally dismissed. Instead he just casts a weak sonorous charm and calls after him an exasperated "NO MORE DANGLING FROM LEDGES POTTER!" He wonders what other ways the strange little Ravenclaw will find to get in trouble, and perhaps what he ought to make of his own godson trying to keep an eye on him.


	12. An Irrelevant Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tea with Hagrid, and musings on things don't concern Harry as much as they perhaps should.

     Later Harry asks a question during tea with Hagrid over some very rocky rock cakes.

     "If the Dark Lord killed my parents," he starts, intending to ask about the war, but is quickly interrupted to be told that only dark wizards and followers of you-know-who call him such. Harry thinks about snarling, yelling professors, and how he has his mother's eyes. Really, Snape's personal life is none of his business.

     Interesting, but ultimately irrelevant, Harry decides. He spends the rest of tea coaxing the name Voldemort out of a nervous Hagrid. Three names all for one person seems like rather a lot, but Harry supposes that really he himself has that many; and the headmaster's frog card had listed five.

     Ron tells anyone who will listen that there's a giant three headed dog in the castle, but that number is few, and those who believe him list even smaller.

     He, Dean Thomas, and Hermione Granger all venture to the third floor to investigate, and Harry supposes that that sort of thing is why they're in Gryffindor to begin with. For his part, Harry ignores talk of trap doors and reads up on types of magical creatures. The Cerberus had caught him off guard, and he didn't want such a thing to happen again. Not that Harry goes around looking for deadly or dangerous things, mind you, but it's in his best interest to be prepared.


	13. Halloween Mischeif

     Halloween Harry spends reading about gnomes, doxies, magical pesticides, and methods of brewing them. One thing leads to another and he's on his way from the library to the dungeons to ask Snape a question before his detention. The hallways are quiet, except for the crashes and grunts coming from a nearby restroom.

     Harry walks faster to avoid whatever it is that's going on _now_. Snape isn't in his office, but this is where Harry was told to report for detention, so he settles into the chair opposite the teacher's desk and reads some more out of the book he's brought with him.

     "Potter!" a pale and limping Snape snaps upon seeing him. "What are you doing in the dungeons when there's a troll-"

     "Ah," Harry interrupts with his quiet noise of understanding.

     "Do tell me what revelation is so very important that you must interrupts a teacher for it," Snape challenges with a lifted brow and his usual level of disdain.

     "Just that that explains the noises coming from the bathroom, sir."

     Snape pales more, and Harry thinks that he might be witnessing the man attempt to transform into a ghost.

     "What bathroom?" Snape grits out, and Harry shrugs and tells him.

     "Stay here, Potter. Do not move an inch."

     Harry moves two inches over in the chair while the professor is away just to see if the man will notice. The points he loses for his sass and the ones he gains for helping them find the troll and save three students even out in the end.  When Harry finds out that Ron took his advice about impairing the troll's vision, he can't stop grinning for the whole day.


	14. November Machinitions

     Word of the events of Halloween spread quickly. Dean Thomas broke three bones in the showdown. Ron Weasley pushed the Granger girl out of the way of the troll's club, getting himself a minor concussion, temporary memory problems, and a lifetime tutor and friend out of the ordeal. Hermione Granger, word in the halls is, only cried a little. Gryffindor ended up thirty points richer for it, but imaginary points and arbitrary reward systems aren't really any of Harry's business.

     He could care less what colour banners were hanging in the great hall. Besides, if Harry had earned points as well then he would have never heard the end of it from Draco, who is upset enough at Slytherin ranking second place.

     Harry places his Christmas orders via Speckles, and begins wrapping by the third week of November. A prefect tells him sternly that "first years are not allowed their own brooms," to which Harry responds that it isn't his, but is a gift for someone else. The truth is, the top-of-the-line broom stick is a gift for some _ones_ else.

     First years may not be allowed their _own_  brooms, but nowhere in Harry's letter did it mention sharing. He is prepared to take the matter past the headmaster to the very board of governors if he must. Since Draco's father is on said board, and is already irritated with the school over  _The Troll Incident_ Harry suspects that any dispute will end firmly in his favor.

     Besides, tricking his two best friends into learning to compromise and get along? Well, it sounds like the sort of thing that Harry ought to concern himself with.  'To Draco and Ron,' Harry writes on the tag of the package which is very obviously the latest in top of the line brooms.  'Since you can't have your own, perhaps you can make do with sharing this gift.  Regards and leave me out of arguments, HJP.'


	15. What's an obliviate?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November and detention.

     Harry is in detention again during November, because he sits behind a gossip during potions, and somehow Professor Snape always knows when he isn't paying proper attention. It isn't his fault really. It's just that apparently Draco and Ron are going to duel in the trophy room after curfew this weekend. Harry plans to be there as a spectator.

     Regardless of how he ended up here, Harry is still cutting the legs off caterpillars the size of his forearm. As far as punishments go this one is sufficiently tedious.

     "I'm glad your leg is feeling better, Professor." Harry says without looking up from his task. He expects Snape to likewise not look up from his grading, but that is not how things play out.

     "Just what do you think you are implying, Potter?" he hisses with a scowl, and Harry hastens to explain.

     "Nothing sir! It's just that the limp has faded. It's really none of my business what you or the mysterious dark lord are up to."  Under his breath, he mutters, "Mostly I just want to know why there isn't a potion that corrects vision."

     "Whose side of the war are you on?" he inquires, and Harry huffs.

     "I'm on no one's side," he insists. "I'm _eleven_. War is none of my business."

     "What is your business, then?" sneers Snape, and Harry spends a very tense moment considering it.

     "The answer to my question about glasses," he decides, "is very much immediately relevant to me, sir."  Harry does not pretend that a man who can hear whispers at fifty feet will not know what he's talking about.

     Severus Snape reshuffles his loyalties in the face of such blithe indifference.

     "I shall obliviate you of this entire conversation," Snape decides.

     "What's an obliviate?" asks Harry.

     "A memory erasure spell. If done correctly it is physically harmless. Its psychological affects are as I stated."

     "I'll still know you're on Voldemort's side," Harry tells him, just to be clear about the whole thing. He doesn't suppose he'll miss one conversation very much, and doubtlessly he will end up asking about the vision potion again.

     Snape, not having named a side, tenses.

     "I am a spy-" he starts, but Harry shrugs.

     "That's none of my business. Anyway, I'm not fighting in a war over I'm not even sure what before I'm even of age."

     Legally speaking, it's not like Harry can be drafted.

     "I will look in to the vision corrective potion idea," Snape says with exasperation. He has to make inquiries about stronger headache cures and stress relievers, anyway, if this is how the next six and a half years are going to go.


	16. Christmas Arrives

     When Christmas arrives Harry gets an invisibility cloak, of all things. It had apparently belonged to his father. The thought of it being used in cruel pranks twists Harry's stomach, so he re-gifts it to Hermione, encouraging her to sneak into the restricted section of the library after curfew.

     "How can they ban books? It's a school!" Harry insists, and by the way she grips the material tightly, he knows she agrees. His bookish friend is sure not to do anything nefarious with such an article, and Harry thinks she ought to learn to loosen up about rules anyway.

     He gathers Draco and Ron up at supper and delivers them their gift with a sly grin. They are equal parts gleeful and despairing, and in the end a truce is called until the start of second year, when they are allowed their own separate brooms. (After the disaster of their trophy room escapade, Harry considers this a very good thing.)

     Custody of the broom will have to be shared through visits over the summer, and since Draco's father will undoubtedly get him an even newer broom upon second year, this broom will then default to Ron. The back and forth between them is really quite amicable, all things considered.

     Harry has accidentally begun the end of a generations long blood feud because he decided that getting caught out dueling in the middle of the night by a cat was in fact his problem.


	17. Harry's Holiday List, Continued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The invention of the gift certificate, and other miscellaneous uselessness.

     Harry gifts Filch a list of things he knows through Ron that the Weasley twins are planning for the upcoming year, and makes sure to also include a bag of toys and treats for Miss Norris.

     He doesn't like to think of himself as a snitch, but some of the things the twins want to do to the school's hallways have to be prevented for the good of Harry's education and sanity alike.

     From Hagrid Harry gets a flute, and has given him in return a large print jumbo starter cook book.

     Professor Flitwick gets a poster sized printout of his Chocolate frog card, and Professor Snape a laser pointer with a pointed note about how much he likes pointing out the mistakes of his students. This could not have been a better decision, because a very straight faced Snape spends the entirety of the holiday supper using it to drive Mcgonagal insane.

     Harry himself is surprised to receive from Snape a vial of a foul smelling concoction along with a note. The note says to stop making such an infernal nuisance of himself with irrelevant questions and constant detentions.  The potion corrects his eyes.

     He gets Headmaster Dumbledore a nice warm pair of brightly colored wool socks. His gifting logic goes like this:

     Snape is mean and scary even to students he likes, so Harry has no business being on his bad side.  Flitwick is his head of house, making him the go-to authority over Harry. Flattery has never ended him worse off than he started, and secretly he thinks it's funny that his gift for the teacher is as tall as he is.

   The headmaster is arguably the boss of the entire school, and based on what Harry knows about grandparents and gift giving, old people like socks. Vernon's parents always send Dudley socks and shirts and such, anyway. It's been a source of many loud complaints.

     People Harry knows less well, as well as the ones he doesn't see much benefit to putting extra effort into, get written vouchers to various stores that Harry had to get drawn up special by Gringotts because apparently the wizarding world is full of idiots who have never heard of gift cards. It's all well and good, Harry supposes, because now every wizard raised student in his year will credit him for their invention. (Most of the vouchers where to Flourish and Blotts, except for some like the Weasley twins whom Harry gave vouchers to places such as Quality Quidditch Supplies or Zonkos.


	18. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ta-da. Keep an eye out for my very pointedly unexciting book two parody as the continuation of this honestly pointless series! Special guest stars will include Dobby, Lockhart, and Voldemort, so stay tuned!

     Anyway, that's all of interest that really happened Harry Potter's first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Well, other things may have happened, like the reason for Professor Quirrel's sudden resignation, or the weird mirror that trapped some third year for a whole week in an abandoned classroom, but those things don't have anything to do with _Harry._

     Harry is busy being concerned with things like his new photo album, the train ride home, and how he's best going to stay out of trouble this summer.


End file.
